


Advance

by gmariam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode: s02e02 Sleeper, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8028544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam
Summary: Jack and Ianto continue to navigate the uncertain waters of their relationship, until an unexpected call threatens to destroy any advances they've made. Sequel to Retreat.





	1. Chapter 1

Jack knew he'd screwed up a dozen times over.

He knew it would be difficult, returning to a team that had continued without him for months and come out stronger for it. He knew it would be challenging, working side by side with them again, regaining their trust and earning their forgiveness. But he hadn't counted on it being sodisheartening _._ He felt useless, alone, left out, and sometimes found himself doubting the decision to return.

Which was ridiculous, because he also recognized that the others were trying their best, accepting his apologies and beginning to build a new normal as a team. Tosh had reached out, a tentative gesture of understanding over lunch together. Owen had rolled his eyes, threatening Jack with his balls if he ran off on them again, and gone right back to work. Ianto had forgiven him the first night back, and was now trying hard to support Jack's return while still maintaining the distance he clearly needed to work through everything that had happened between them.

Gwen was still angry, though. Still challenging him, still trying to ambush him with questions, particularly when he was least expecting it and feeling the most vulnerable. Her unwillingness to relinquish full command and back off from emotional manipulation bothered him, whereas he'd once seen her persistence as a strength. Then again, a lot of his thoughts about Gwen had changed, both during his time away and upon his return.

He'd been surprised to find her wearing an engagement ring when he'd come back, and if he was honest, a little disappointed as well. In the back of his mind, Gwen had always been his, almost as much as Ianto. He'd brought her into Torchwood and tried hard to groom and protect her (and hadn't he failed at that spectacularly, considering she'd led the revolt against him,) but now she was officially someone else's. He couldn't protect her anymore, certainly not that part of her life. And so he felt a sense of loss, even though he was frustrated by her constant pushing and prodding and need to know.

He wouldn't have shared anything with her anyway. Jack knew himself well enough to understand that he'd hired and kept Gwen because she put him on a pedestal, and he liked standing up there posing for her. It had taken months while hanging in chains in the engine room of the Valiant to accept that, and he wasn't proud of it, but it was a part of who he was: a man looking for nothing more than love and acceptance. He wanted to believe that deep down he was a good person, maybe even a hero; that he wasn't the awful man he'd been once, and that he wasn't a monster or a freak of nature (unfortunately the Master had brought that complex roaring to life.) But he didn't believe it, so he believed in others. Gwen saw what she wanted to see, the immortal champion, either missing the shadows completely or blissfully ignoring them, and Jack liked that. He needed that validation.

Only now she was questioning him even more, pushing hard, and he knew if he showed her even a fraction of what he really was, he'd break a part of her, the part that still put him on that pedestal even if it was a little bit shorter now. If she knew the things he had seen and done over the last year let alone his long life, she'd never be able to look at him the same again. She'd never be able to look at the _world_ the same again, and he couldn't do that to her. Or to himself. Maybe it made him a coward, but he'd spent a year in chains after the Doctor had declared him impossible and wrong. If he wanted at least one person to believe in him, he'd earned the right.

But then there was Ianto. Ianto, who knew what had happened, who had seen it first hand when the guard from the Valiant had showed up and slammed his head into the table, a gun to his neck. Ianto, who saw Jack's darkness, who had always seen it and accepted it and even experienced it, yet still believed in him, even now. At least, Ianto believed in him as a man, as a leader, and even as a friend, but not as a lover and certainly not as anything more, and that hurt, because that was what Jack wanted now.

Jack didn't know what to do. Ianto's fear and reticence was completely understandable, and though Jack hated it, he understood and couldn't begrudge it. In fact, while a small part of him had been hoping to fall back into bed with Ianto, another part would have seriously questioned such a relationship. It wasn't what he wanted, casual sex on lonely nights, but he respected Ianto too much to push for more when the Welshman wasn't ready. Jack just didn't think it would be so hard to be shut out, to wait.

But he knew it was worth it.

It had been three weeks since he'd returned, a little over a month since the rest of the world had witnessed the death of both the President of the United States and the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. Washington and London seemed to be on the long road to recovery, and after the debacle that was John Hart and the long night spent at St. David's avoiding themselves, Torchwood had slowly settled into a new team dynamic as well. Jack had realized that asserting his leadership in his usual bullheaded way wouldn't work, and he'd tried to ease back into it, toning down his flippant attitude and tendency to be arrogant or dismissive. Until Ianto had called him on it and suggested that the others might be more apt to regain their trust in him if he didn't try so hard. Which he'd also said about their date at the restaurant; Jack wondered if he'd ever get things right sometimes.

So he'd gradually let himself _be_ himself again, though truth be told it had been a challenge. He didn't always _feel_ like it. He knew he was brooding a lot, but he couldn't help it. His year with the Doctor had been long and hard, and if Ianto needed time to come to terms with something he hadn't actually experienced, Jack needed it even more. He wanted to put it all behind him, but it was hard, and he struggled every day with memories no one else shared. He couldn't sleep at night, and found himself nodding off throughout the day, only to wake suddenly from flashbacks and nightmares, his hands shaking. He often caught Ianto watching him both fondly and with concern; he wondered if the others even noticed.

The Rift had kept them busy after Hart's disappearance, and they'd had an increased number of Rift gifts, as Ianto called them, and far more Weevils than usual for several days. It had been an auspicious return in yet another way, and the team had been run down by the long days and nights. But they'd established a rota where two team members had the night off and two members stayed on, with a similar plan for the weekends, and they had insisted on returning to it after things slowed down. Jack had found it hard to adjust to, but acknowledged that they needed time for other things in their lives besides work. They'd reclaimed it while he'd been gone, and he couldn't take that away.

Jack wished he and Ianto could have a night off together, but he wasn't sure how to work himself into the rota, and he wasn't sure if Ianto would even want to see him. He'd said he wasn't dating anyone, but Jack had gossiped with Gwen and Owen enough to know Ianto had dated while Jack had been gone. Nothing serious, but it was possible the Welshman had plans for his nights, plans that didn't include Jack. Jack didn't want to push him; Ianto had said he needed time and space, and Jack would give it to him. In the meantime, he revisited his favorite rooftops, breathing the cool night air and gazing at the stars, remembering everything he'd lost and regained and wishing it had never happened.

More than anything, he missed Ianto, and not just the sex. He missed the easy companionship and working relationship they'd shared before Jack had been trapped in 1941 and the Rift had splintered. Their interactions at the Hub were mostly comfortable, giving Jack hope, but there were still moments when they were alone and didn't know what to say, or when someone else said something awkward, that things felt suddenly uncomfortable. Ianto grew silent, fleeing to the archives or the coffee machine while Jack sulked in his office, wishing everything could go back to the way it had been, to their strange messed-up version of normal.

Even communication with UNIT and Whitehall had changed, and bureaucracies tended to remain unchanged the galaxy over. As much as Jack often dreaded talking with the various bureaucratic idiots at UNIT headquarters, he got along well enough with most of them. Ianto had informed him that the Queen as well as UNIT had eventually been made aware of Jack's absence, but that the team had assured them both that Jack was undercover on a case and everything was under control. Yet since his return, he'd spoken with Whitehall only once, and UNIT had been unusually quiet. Jack had been glad at first, but after running into Detective Swanson at a crime scene that morning, he was now curious. And suspicious.

He'd had no emails, no messages, nothing at all about Lt. James McMahan, the man who had attacked him and Ianto at the hotel. After one more look to be sure he hadn't missed anything, he decided he'd confront the person most likely responsible. Standing with a sigh, he went to the door. "Ianto?" he called. "Can I talk to you?"

Ianto glanced up in surprise from his computer, where he was researching both the suspects and victims in their latest case. Jack had noticed that Ianto spent more time in the main part of the Hub than he had before. He was fairly certain Ianto was keeping an eye on him, and wasn't sure whether to be annoyed, offended, or glad. Ianto hit a few keys, then joined him in the office.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, standing before Jack's desk. Outwardly, he looked perfectly composed, but Jack could see from the stiff set of his body that Ianto was nervous. Whether it was because of Jack or because of work was hard to tell, but Jack hated it. It had been weeks; he wanted the easy camaraderie back.

"Relax," Jack smiled, setting aside his sadness, that he couldn't reach out to reassure the other man. God, he missed touching Ianto—a brush of fingers, a quick embrace, a kiss. He should have been used to it, it had been so long for him, and he should have been accepting the possibility that maybe there would be nothing more between them. Instead he felt more and more heartsick and lonely every day.

"Sorry," Ianto murmured, rolling his shoulders back. He dropped the sir, which was a small victory, at least. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, if you really want to know the answer to that," Jack started, and was relieved when Ianto smiled, thrilled when the other man rolled his eyes. "Sit down for a minute, I wanted to you talk about something." When Ianto hesitated, Jack tried not to sigh but failed. "About Torchwood."

Ianto sat down and waited for Jack to begin. Now that he was there, Jack wasn't sure how to bring it up. He hated having the desk between them, as he suspected personal issues were at play here as well as professional, so he stood and came around the desk to be closer, fiddled with a few things to burn off his own nervous energy, then turned to Ianto, arms crossed over his chest. He decided to begin with something else.

"I went to Flat Holm last night," he started. "There was a negative spike by the Barrage, one survivor."

Ianto frowned. "You could have called. I would've been happy to help."

"I know," Jack said with a smile. "But you did enough while I was gone."

Ianto studied him carefully. "I'm only glad you told me before you left, sir."

Jack nodded and stared at his boots. It was a subtle reprimand if there ever was one, the only one regarding Flat Holm since he'd returned. Ianto had somehow managed to run it on his own while Jack was gone, still keeping it secret from the others even though Jack was fairly sure Ianto had been pissed off about it and could have used the help. But it was Ianto's deep sense of loyalty that had kept the secret, and Jack suspected something similar was at play now.

"I saw Detective Swanson at the crime scene earlier," he said. Ianto nodded.

"I'm sure she was glad to see you back in the field, sir," he replied. Though his face was straight, Jack heard the grin in the other man's voice, saw the teasing smile in his eyes.

"Oh, she was thrilled. Said something about wanting to see me naked. I think she missed me more than everyone else combined. But it reminded me of our last run-in with the good detective."

He saw the smallest twitch in Ianto's eyes, betraying his thoughts. "Yes, sir. At the hotel right after your return."

Jack nodded. "And you spoke with her the next day?"

"Yes, sir," said Ianto. "I went to the station personally and closed the case."

"The UNIT case," Jack said. Again, only Jack would have noticed the slight change in Ianto's body language, but it was there. He closed up, however slightly, and Jack hated what he was about to hit him with.

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Was there a problem?"

"I don't think so," said Jack. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to go back to that night, think about that man. He was perfectly fine forgetting all about it, but he was also the leader of Torchwood Three, as well as the one who had been targeted, and he needed to know what had happened to James McMahan and how it had been handled.

"I haven't heard from UNIT about their man," Jack said. "Did Swanson send them the body?"

"Yes, sir," said Ianto, and now he appeared confused. Jack couldn't help but move closer, wanting to comfort but knowing he couldn't. "As I said at the time, the situation was contained."

"And resolved?" asked Jack.

"Yes, sir," said Ianto. This time there was some steel in his voice, responding to the unasked question in Jack's. Jack sighed.

"Ianto, I haven't heard from UNIT _at all_. Not once since I returned, not a single phone call, email, or text message."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I should think you'd be glad," he offered. "As you have often referred to them as a bunch of—"

"Yes, yes," Jack waved him to stop. "And they are. But why haven't they contacted me about the attack at the hotel? I'd like to know what the hell happened to that man, how he found me so fast, why he came after me."

Ianto stood. "As I said, the situation was contained. I've spoken with them myself and didn't feel the need to disturb you with the details."

"Disturb me?" Jack asked, his voice incredulous even though this was exactly what he had suspected. "It's my job, Ianto. I'm supposed to talk to them."

"With all due respect," Ianto replied, "you were in no shape to speak with them that night or the next day, and I had no wish to burden you further. I handled it."

"You handled it?"

"Yes, sir. Like Flat Holm." They stared at each other, one frustrated, one defiant.

"I can handle myself, you know," Jack said softly, trying to sound strong but only sounding hurt. Ianto took a deep breath before he replied.

"I know that, Jack," he said. Jack almost sagged with relief when Ianto used his first name. "I also know what happened to you, what that man did to you. There was no reason to put you through that again."

Jack's mouth opened once or twice, and seeing his dumbfounded reaction, Ianto ran a nervous hand through his hair and started pacing, deliberately putting distance between them.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped my bounds, but I've been liaising with them since you left. It made sense to continue in that role given the circumstances of this particular interaction."

"The circumstances of this particular interaction?" Jack asked.

"The situation on the Valiant, sir," Ianto replied, turning toward him and reverting to formality once again. "And Lt. McMahan's role in it."

Jack shook his head. "What did you say, what did you do? Tell me everything so I'm at least aware of what's going on behind my back."

Ianto bristled at that. "I wasn't going behind your back," he replied stiffly. "I'd be happy to type up a transcript of my conversations with General Brightman as well as my meeting with Colonel Mace."

"You met with Mace?" Jack exclaimed. "When the hell did you do that?"

"My day off last weekend," Ianto shrugged. "I felt discretion was needed."

"And Mace agreed?"

"He did. Colonel Mace and I happen to get along fairly well," Ianto replied.

Jack chewed on a thumb. "How did you explain knowing about the Valiant?"

"I told them the truth," Ianto replied. "That after we were attacked, you explained that a paradox year had occurred on board the Valiant that only those on board remember. I did not, however, share any details of my knowledge."

Jack nodded. He still wasn't sure if he should be angry or glad that Ianto had shielded him from going through anything to do with that year again. He'd think about that later. Right now he needed more facts. "So what did he say about McMahan? What's his story?"

Ianto toed the ground, glancing anywhere but Jack as he apparently thought about his answer. Jack hoped he wasn't hiding anything and raised an eyebrow in question as he waited. Ianto shook his head. "I'm not holding back," he said, though Jack still had the impression he was. "Just trying to figure out where to start as it's a bit…confusing, to be honest. Most of the men on board the Valiant don't remember what happened."

Jack frowned. "No, no way. They don't have that capability, and the Doctor would never allow it!"

"He wasn't there holding their hand, was he?" asked Ianto. "Colonel Mace said the Doctor was no help after the reset, he simply disappeared. UNIT took things into their own hands. Apparently they have their own way of erasing unwanted memories, and every man was wiped within days of returning, all except for the captain." He paused. "And you."

"Why?" asked Jack.

"Why wipe their memories, or why leave the captain to remember?" asked Ianto.

"Both, I suppose," said Jack.

"Colonel Mace said most of the men on the Valiant had no choice in their service there. Apparently Harold Saxon executed anyone who refused to follow orders. The official explanation is that UNIT brass decided there was no reason for them to live with the guilt of their actions, or the memories of what happened that year. Colonel Mace suggested that it was deemed a massive security risk to leave them with such knowledge."

"But the captain has to live with it?" asked Jack. "That seems harsh."

"Apparently he was agreeable," said Ianto. "He understood the necessity of at least one person retaining the memory of what happened. He is, unfortunately, currently on medical leave for six months due to mental trauma, and the colonel deems it unlikely he'll return to active duty."

Jack swore and started pacing as well. This was why he considered UNIT a bunch of cock-sucking arseholes. They had no compassion, preferring to get the job done regardless of the losses. Anything for Queen and Country, and that had been Yvonne Hartmann's downfall.

He wondered for a moment why he had not been approached about having his memories erased, but suspected that his relationship with the Doctor protected him. It was ironic in that it was his relationship with the Doctor that had resulted in the horrific year in the first place. Jack would have almost preferred to forget, like the others. He hoped Martha and her family were all right.

"What happened to McMahan?" Jack finally asked.

Ianto straightened himself and gazed over Jack's right shoulder, as if he were a soldier reporting to his captain. "The lieutenant apparently failed the memory wipe and regained his memories. Colonel Mace said that their medical expert suspects the sudden influx of traumatic memories resulted in an almost instant psychosis. He knew you were stationed at Torchwood Three in Cardiff and blamed you for what happened on board the Valiant."

Jack suppressed the flicker of anger, that all the men and women on board the ship had had a choice, even though he knew that for some men death wasn't truly a choice at all. "How did he know we were at that hotel, though?" Jack asked. "Why didn't he go to the Hub?"

"Dumb luck, sir," said Ianto. "I had Tosh search through the CCTV footage of that night. He ran into the SUV near the car park and followed us to the hotel. He didn't need to go to the Hub."

"Why did he wait so long then?" asked Jack. "He could have attacked at any time, why did he wait until we were at the restaurant hours later?"

"Hotel security shows him in the lobby, watching us not long after we arrived. When he attempted to follow you to the lift, he was cut off by a large group of people leaving the hotel. He waited until we reappeared. Again—dumb luck."

Jack shook his head. "You managed to figure all that out on your own?" he asked.

"With Tosh's help, of course," Ianto replied.

"Of course," Jack murmured. "What did you tell her?"

"That UNIT was not forthcoming with information. So we tracked it down ourselves, from the lieutenant's records to the CCTV footage. If you'd like to review it, I have the files waiting to be archived downstairs.

Jack went to sit behind his desk. Ianto remained standing at attention before him. "No, I'm good. It sounds like you handled it."

"I believe that's what I said when you first asked about it," Ianto pointed out, clearly holding back a small smile.

"I know," Jack sighed. "And I'm not sure whether to thank you for your initiative or reprimand you for keeping it from me."

Ianto stiffened. "I was only trying to help, sir. If that's all?" He turned toward the door without being dismissed.

"Ianto, stop!" Jack exclaimed, jumping up and coming around to him again, grabbing his arm to stop him. They stared at one another for a long moment, eyes constantly flicking toward lips as Jack felt the muscles of Ianto's arm twitch beneath his fingers, burning heat into his body. He wanted so badly to kiss Ianto, make it all better. And Ianto must have felt the same longing, for his lips parted and Jack leaned forward and—

"Jack!" Tosh appeared in the doorway. "Oh, sorry."

Ianto jumped about five feet backward, instantly smoothing his jacket and tie. "Nothing to apologize for, Tosh," he said, his voice remarkably calm. Jack stared at him, amazed at Ianto's powers of recovery. "I was telling Jack what we found out about James McMahan."

"Okay," she said, gazing back and forth between them, obviously sensing the tension in the room. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, Gwen called from the hospital. The second suspect just died."

Jack continued to stare at Ianto, almost overcome by longing. With the tiniest of nods, it was as if Ianto was acknowledging both of their feelings and releasing him to be leader once more. Jack turned to Tosh. "Right. Bring her in."

"Who, Gwen?" asked Tosh, clearly confused.

"The wife," said Jack, grinning. "We need to have a little chat."

"I'll call Gwen and let her know," said Tosh, nodding as she turned and left.

"Shall I get the interrogation room ready?" asked Ianto.

"Looks like we'll be entertaining a guest, so please do," said Jack. Ianto brushed by him on the way out, and Jack reached for his hand, holding tight. "And thank you, for everything."

"You're welcome, sir." At the exasperated look from Jack, Ianto smiled. " _Jack_. I was only trying to help."

"I know," said Jack. "But you don't need to protect me."

Ianto cocked his head. "I thought that was my job? General support and all that?"

"You do too much," Jack murmured. He was once more entranced by Ianto's lips. The Welshman coughed to get his attention.

"I'll give myself a bonus. Now if you don't mind, I need to keep doing that job and get ready for our guest."

"Right." Jack dropped Ianto's hand and watched him leave. He thought about everything Ianto had told him and decided it was all right. Hell, Ianto probably deserved a commendation for taking over with UNIT. He was concerned about their treatment of the men and women on board the Valiant and made a note to speak with Colonel Mace himself about it. He also decided he needed to contact Martha and make sure that she and her family were all right as well.

Gazing into the Hub, he couldn't help but watch Ianto as he moved about, wishing he had more time to spend with the Welshman at that moment, as he felt some of their connection returning with that near kiss, but there was work to do. A murder to solve, a suspect to question. But maybe when it was over, he could talk Ianto into at least having a drink with him, if not dinner and a movie.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a three-part follow-up to my story Retreat, set around the episode Sleeper. It continues both Jack and Ianto's story as well as some other ideas and will be continued in the next story, tentatively titled Ghosts of the Past. Thank you for reading!
> 
> Note on the timeline: I set this three weeks after KKBB and Jack's return to the team. You might have noticed that it is also almost just over a month since the President and Prime Minister were killed. The Torchwood team were out of the country when that happened, as there is a canon report from Owen stating that as they were returning from their wild goose chase in the Himalayas, they learned that Harold Saxon had won the election and then had been shot with the President. He says something about a week being a long time in politics. If Saxon died while they were in the Himalayas, time reset while they were there as well. In my mind, it took a few days for the team to get back and get settled and get on that Blowfish in KKBB. Who knows what Jack, Martha, and the Doctor were up to. Fanon would have them recovering in the Tardis. All I know is that they didn't return immediately. Probably something timey-whimey, but it's mostly to give them team time to get home and get settled. And for UNIT to do dastardly things. And I could be way off, who knows. I'm not fussed about it, but I did think about it!


	2. Chapter 2

When it was all over, and Beth Halloran was laid to rest in the morgue once more, Jack found Ianto in the SUV, sitting in the driver's seat with the door open, head back and eyes closed. He wondered if Ianto was asleep and debated whether to wake him or let him doze for a while, but Ianto cocked open one eye and rolled his head toward him.

"I'm awake," he murmured. Jack grinned.

"Could've fooled me," he replied. "What with the eyes and all."

"Just thinking," said Ianto, but then yawned. "Really."

Jack frowned. "Are you all right?" When Ianto nodded, he continued. "You're not upset about the sticky stuff on the SUV?"

Ianto offered him a weak smile. "Warm, soapy water, exactly like you said," he replied.

"And I missed it?" Jack teased. "Damn."

"Should've let you scrub it yourself," Ianto murmured, his eyes falling closed again. Jack laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you sure you're all right?" he asked. "Come here." He helped Ianto out of the car and pulled him into an embrace. Ianto stiffened, then relaxed, though not completely. Jack wasn't looking for anything more, however, he was only hoping to comfort.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly. "Is it Beth?"

Ianto stepped away and ran a hand through his hair. Jack motioned toward a nearby kerb, and they sat down side by side. He'd have preferred to talk in his office, with a drink in hand, but now seemed the time.

"Not really," said Ianto. "I mean, I feel bad about what happened to her, about shooting her, but I think she…she wanted to die human, not part of an alien sleeper cell. She died with dignity."

Jack was silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to word his next sentence. "You seemed off on this case," he offered. "Bit more dry than usual."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. Jack shrugged. "Fine, Owen thought you were a smart ass, Tosh said you were witty. Why so much verbal repartee?" Jack was especially curious about Gwen's bedroom comment and Ianto's snarky reply, but he'd ask about that later.

Ianto turned away and stared off across the car park. "Dunno," he finally replied. "Just more wound up than usual, I suppose. Nervous energy, maybe."

"Was it hard, seeing Beth like that?" Jack asked quietly. "It was kind of similar to, well…"

"To Lisa?" Ianto finished. "Maybe a little, but Beth was alien from the beginning, hidden here for a purpose. She wasn't taken over, tortured, corrupted."

"True," Jack murmured. "But at the end…" He trailed off again, unable to point out the similarities in Beth's execution with Lisa Hallet's death. He'd been worried that the situation might trigger unpleasant memories for Ianto, but apparently something else was bothering him. Ianto leaned forward, hands clasped on his knees, which was when Jack somehow noticed the streak of blood on Ianto's temple, a small dark stain on his shirt, red under his nails. Jack sat up quickly.

"What happened?" he demanded, grabbing the other man and beginning to examine him. "You're hurt, where is it? That's why you're like this, you've lost too much blood!"

He tried to pull Ianto up, but the other man refused to move, dead weight on the pavement. "I'm fine," he said, sounding tired, but Jack ignored him.

"You're bleeding!" he exclaimed. "What happened? Did Beth hurt you? Was it something in the archives? We should get you to the medical bay, I'll call Owen—"

This time Ianto let himself be hauled to his feet and ushered into the lift back to the Hub. He rolled his eyes. "Jack, stop pushing me! It's not my blood," he said.

Jack stared at him, raised his hand toward the streak on Ianto's face. "Whose is it then?"

"It's yours," Ianto replied.

"Mine?" Jack whispered. The lift stopped and they stared at one another. Ianto broke eye contact first and stepped out.

"I should clean up," he muttered.

Jack followed him, redirecting the Welshman toward his office.

"Or you can tell me what happened, and how come you're covered in my blood," he said, not bothering to shut the door behind them as they were the only ones still at the Hub.

"I should think it was obvious!" Ianto exclaimed, shaking him off. "You did bleed out all over the SUV, after all."

"Oh," said Jack. He sometimes forgot what a mess dying could be.

"Oh," Ianto mocked. "Christ, Jack, what were you thinking? That I wouldn't notice the stain? Or the stickiness? Or the smell? You could have told me!"

"You're not really upset about the aerial, are you?" Jack asked slowly. And all of a sudden, like a violent cloudburst on a sunny day, Ianto let loose his ire.

"Of course I am! Bad enough that you defaced the SUV with duct tape and wire, but then to go and _die_ on the inside, blood everywhere, soaking the seats and the carpets and the—" He choked on his last words and sank onto the sofa in Jack's office, his head falling into his hands.

"I'm sorry," Jack said softly, sitting down next to him. "I didn't even think of it. It's been a while."

Ianto snorted inelegantly. "You mean, a whole three weeks since you fell off a building? Or are you so used to hiding it from us that it's a habit? How many times have you been killed by a Weevil since then? Shot? Alien tech gone wrong?"

Jack tried very hard to contain his own angry response, knowing that this was about Ianto and his reaction. Jack had been dying and reviving for over a hundred years; for Ianto and the others it was still shocking and new.

"Since I returned, none," Jack replied as evenly as he could. "It's not pleasant, and after spending a year dying every other day, I'd like to avoid it if I can."

Ianto's eyes closed, his face abashed. "But today you couldn't," he whispered.

"Today I couldn't," Jack agreed. When Ianto was silent, Jack continued. "Look, it's not like I won't come back. I will. And I'm sorry about the SUV, I'll take it in—"

Ianto laughed bitterly. "Already clean, sir. I managed to get most of it out, although it will still need a good detailing. And it's not about the car."

"It's about me," Jack sighed.

"You _died_ ," Ianto said, his voice breaking.

"And I came back."

Ianto turned to look at him, his eyes rimmed red. "What's it like?" he asked.

Jack let his eyes slip closed. "It's painful, more painful than you could possibly imagine." He opened them to gaze at Ianto. "And even worse coming back, but it's worth it every time."

"Someday you might not wake up," Ianto pointed out, though it was stated as more of a question.

Jack shook his head. "I will always come back. Forever."

Ianto studied him before gazing out into the Hub. "Gwen knew," he said, his voice quiet, the note of accusation well-hidden, but there none the less. "How is it that we've all been here so much longer, seen so much more, but she knew?"

Jack blew out a long breath. "She was there the night Suzie died. Suzie shot me in the head before she shot herself. Gwen saw everything."

"And you didn't want to Retcon her, or make up stories like you did for the rest of us?" Ianto asked. Again, the hint of bitterness was only heard because Jack knew what to listen for.

"She'd already broken through the Retcon once," Jack said slowly, trying to piece it together himself. It had been a gut decision, to let Gwen know the truth. The opportunity had presented itself and he had taken it. It had felt good to know that someone on the team shared his secret, had his back. "And as I wanted her for the team, it seemed better to let her keep her memories than spin a tale."

"You didn't trust the rest of us," Ianto said sadly.

"That's not true," Jack said, his voice firm. "I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want anyone to know, it's as simple as that. It's not about trust."

"But you trusted her and you didn't even know her," Ianto pointed out. "So in a way, it is."

"Ianto, what's this really about?" Jack asked, leaning back against the sofa. "I feel like there's multiple conversations going here, and I'm not sure which one to follow."

Ianto glanced up at him finally, offered a small smile. "Sorry. I suppose I got to thinking and couldn't stop."

"I've heard thinking is bad for your health," Jack joked, and Ianto laughed shortly through his nose.

"It's why I try not to, sir," he said with a shrug. "It makes things more complicated."

"What things?"

Ianto was quiet for so long Jack didn't think he'd get an answer, though he suspected he knew what Ianto was thinking about. Beth and the sleeper cell they'd barely stopped in time, life and death and the end of the world they'd once again avoided. But Ianto surprised him again.

"You," he said. "Me. Us."

"Us," Jack repeated. If his heart sped up, he tried not to notice; whether it was from hope or fear he had no idea, probably both.

"I miss it," Ianto said softly, avoiding Jack's eyes. "The way things used to be. Before Lisa died, before you went back to 1941. It was…" He trailed off with another shrug, apparently unable to find the right word.

"It was good," Jack finished for him. "And going in the right direction."

"I don't know about that," Ianto replied. "It was completely dysfunctional and—"

"Hot," Jack said. "Very, very hot."

Ianto laughed out loud. "Yes, it was that. I definitely miss _that_."

"Me too," said Jack. "But I miss the other things more. We can get them back, you know."

"I don't know how," Ianto replied. "So many things have changed."

"Like what?" Jack asked. This was his chance, finally, to finish the talk they'd started at the hotel. He wanted to work it out.

"You died tonight," said Ianto. "You bled out all over the car, not to mention your coat. I like that coat," he added with a reprimanding look.

This time Jack laughed. "I know you do. But I'll come back Ianto, I promise."

Ianto studied his eyes. "I don't like that you have to go through that."

Jack couldn't help but reach out and run his hand along Ianto's face, through his hair and behind his ear, down his neck to his shoulder. "I don't either," he whispered, trying not to tear up.

"What if you don't come back one day?"

"I will," said Jack.

"But if you don't?" Ianto persisted.

"I will," Jack repeated. "I'm an impossible thing. I will _always_ come back."

Ianto seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say. "Try to avoid it, maybe?" he suggested, his voice rough. "Just in case?"

"As much as I can," Jack agreed.

Ianto was silent again, then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you didn't feel like you could trust me enough to tell me," he said. "I wish that I could do more, be more, that I—"

Jack stopped him by leaning forward and kissing him. He couldn't help it. It wasn't something Ianto should be apologizing for. It wasn't his fault that Jack hadn't told him. Jack knew the Welshman was smarting over the fact that Gwen knew about Jack's immortality, but it wasn't a question of trusting Gwen more than the others. It had been a matter of circumstance. It had grown into trust and friendship, but now…now Jack trusted Ianto more than anyone he'd known for a long time.

To his surprise, Ianto returned the kiss without hesitation. In fact, he kissed Jack with some of the same desperation that Jack felt, the same desire to move on, to be together, to stop thinking and worrying and just _feel._ Ianto's arms came up around Jack's shoulders, and Jack pulled him closer around the waist, eyes closed as he relished the moment, hoping it would never end.

And then it did.

An alarm went off in the main Hub, startling them both so that they literally fell apart, breathing heavily and staring at one another. Jack was dazed and confused and leaned forward, fully intending to ignore the sound and continue. But of course Ianto was the rational one, who shook his head and stopped him. Jack swore under his breath.

"Duty calls," Ianto murmured as Jack's lips hovered close. Ianto kissed him chastely, then stood up, holding out his hand. Jack took it and held tight.

"I hate being interrupted," he grumbled.

Ianto gave him a sideways grin. "At least it's not a homicidal UNIT officer."

"Probably a Weevil," Jack sighed. "Talk about bad timing."

Ianto headed toward his station and started pulling up information. "Looks like an unusual disturbance in…in Bristol." He paused, swallowing hard before turning toward Jack. "The Rift doesn't usually go that far. Why's it flagged for us?"

"Where in Bristol?" asked Jack. His heart was in his throat, dreading the answer. Ianto stared at him, realization dawning.

"Local pub."

"Which one?" asked Jack.

"You know which one."

"Tell me!" Jack demanded. Of course he knew. There was only one pub he'd flagged in Bristol, the one where Ianto's former barmaid had fled to after the fiasco at The Ferret eight months ago. Ianto had set her up with a new identity, a new life, even after she'd tried to send him through the Rift into intergalactic slavery. It hadn't been hard for Jack to track her down and keep an eye on her. He'd full intended on Retconning her, but after speaking with her, he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. Sort of like with Gwen Cooper.

"The Crown and the Feathers." Ianto's voice was low and angry.

"Dammit! Let's go. Full kit." He dashed back to his office for his coat and weapon, but Ianto didn't move.

"You knew."

"Not the issue right now!" Jack snapped as he grabbed his things. "We need to get there as fast as we can."

"Why?"

Jack stared at him. "What do you mean, why? We get a suspicious case, we go. It's our job!"

"Why do you care?" Ianto strode up to him, and he was livid. Jack wondered for a moment if he was going to feel that right hook again. "You knew where she was and didn't say anything! Why flag the pub?"

"To keep her safe!" Jack snapped, though it was a complete lie and Ianto knew it.

"To keep an eye on her," Ianto retorted. "Because you didn't trust _me_. How did you find her?"

Jack swallowed his first words, that it hadn't been hard in spite of Ianto's careful work. He took a deep breath to calm his irritation. "Does it matter?"

"Did you Retcon her?"

Jack glared at him before looking away, unable to bear the anger burning in the other man's face. "No. I was going to, but I didn't. "

"Then why?" Ianto demanded again. "Why not leave her alone? She's been through enough."

"She cooperated with an alien entity to enslave the people of this planet! Of course I was going to keep an eye on her!"

"Did you keep an eye on me too? After Lisa? After the Savior?" Ianto shook his head and took a deep breath. "Never mind. It doesn't matter anymore. Do you want me to call the others?"

Jack hesitated. "They don't know anything that happened that night, do they?"

"I never told them," Ianto stated flatly. He had his coat and his gun, as well as the scanner Tosh usually used in the field.

"I didn't either, so leave them out of it. We'll handle it ourselves."

Ianto brushed by him without another word, still visibly upset. Perhaps he was worried as well. In spite of what had happened between him and Mandy Aibiston, he'd clearly cared enough to save her, to help her move on with her life. Then again, he was that kind of person. He'd forgiven Mandy as he'd forgiven Jack.

But now Jack worried that the precarious understanding they'd reached only moments earlier was about to fall apart. It was going to be a long car ride to Bristol.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to my amazing beta, Taamar, who graciously allowed me to refer to her story here with regards to Mandy. As soon as she wrote it, it became headcanon for me. Of course Ianto created a new identity for Mandy Aibiston, and of course Jack tracked her down and talked to her! Please read Mending by Taamar to get the full wonderful story, and if you poke her, she might write the next part as well!


	3. Chapter 3

They were silent for over twenty minutes while Jack drove through the streets as fast as he could, trying not to think about what they'd find when they arrived in Bristol. Ianto alternated between tapping away on his phone for updated information from the Hub computers and leaning against the window, staring into the darkness. Finally he spoke, his voice flat, as if he was trying to hold back both anger and fear.

"What do you think's happened?" Ianto asked. He did not turn to look at Jack.

"It could be anything," Jack replied. "Maybe it has nothing to do with us."

"Then why are we going?" Ianto bitterly replied. "Why did you tell the system to alert us about the pub?"

"Because she's had contact with aliens, Ianto," Jack said wearily, thinking it was obvious. "We watch all those people, from the survivors on Flat Holm to Idris Hopper and that damned reporter who keeps popping up."

Ianto sighed heavily. "She's not a danger, not anymore."

"You don't know that," Jack started, but Ianto cut him off.

"Then why didn't you Retcon her? You knew where she was! You could have wiped her completely off the map."

"I didn't want to do that," Jack snapped back. "I do believe you, you know. I don't think she's a danger. I talked to her, and I don't think she's going to go inviting any more slavers into her cellar. That doesn't mean that they won't come after her!"

"You talked to her?" Ianto asked, his voice suddenly quiet. "You tracked her down, drove to Bristol, and _talked_ to her? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I needed to Retcon her. Jesus, Ianto, you've Retconned dozens of people, you must see why!"

"I do," said Ianto. "Except for the fact that I let her go. It was none of your business."

"I am the leader of Torchwood, you know," Jack replied, letting the sarcasm drip through. "You don't get to decide those things, I do."

"Because you didn't trust me," Ianto stated, sounding more like a petulant child than the level-headed voice of reason he often presented to the team. Jack made an exasperated sound and pushed the SUV faster.

"Because at the end of the day, those things are on me. And if something's happened in Bristol because I didn't Retcon her, it's my fault. My responsibility."

"I let her go," Ianto repeated.

"I let you let her go," said Jack.

"Fuck you," said Ianto, but it was half-hearted, muttered under his breath, as sad as it was upset. They rode for another ten minutes in silence. Jack had no idea what to say, how to even begin to patch the breach that had unexpectedly opened between them.

"What did you talk about?" Ianto asked out of the blue.

"With who?" Jack asked, belatedly realizing Ianto was still talking about Mandy. The Welshman rolled his eyes and turned away. Jack cleared his throat, knowing he would probably botch up the answer in some way, but that he had to say something.

"Nothing really," he said, earning a withering look from Ianto. "Nothing specific," he amended. "Really. I went out there to take her measure, see what she knew, decide whether or not she was still a threat."

"She's as broken as the rest of us," Ianto murmured sadly.

"Yes," Jack agreed. "To do what she did…yeah. But she…I don't know…she's broken, but not completely. There's something different about her. She's a fighter, that's for sure."

He glanced sideways to find Ianto staring at him. "You didn't talk to her…you _talked_ to her, didn't you? About personal stuff."

"She's a barmaid," Jack blustered. "It's what she does, she listens while people talk."

"I know," Ianto replied stiffly. "I talked to her for months. She's got a good heart."

"Good-hearted people don't do what she did," Jack pointed out.

"No, they don't. I don't believe she wasn't always like that, though. She saved my life." He paused and sighed sadly. "Before she tried to end it."

Mandy had said something about that, as had Ianto, but Jack had never asked what had happened, and he knew right then wasn't the moment even though he wanted to know. How had a simple barmaid, harboring an alien in her cellar, saved the life of Ianto Jones? With a few chats over a pint? Jack sensed there was more to it than that, and hoped that one day Ianto would tell him, would feel comfortable enough sharing it with him. Then again, they'd have to make it through whatever was happening at the moment.

"Did you talk about me?" Ianto asked.

"No," said Jack. Then…"Yes. She asked about you. She was worried." Ianto was silent. Jack continued, knowing he should probably stop talking, but unable to stop. "I told her things were complicated. She said maybe it could be simple, if I talked to you."

Ianto was shaking his head. "So you told her about us. You drove out to Bristol to Retcon her and ended up taking relationship advice from her?"

"I…" Jack floundered. "I didn't mean to. It just sort of happened."

"Did you go back?" Ianto asked, and now he sounded curious in a bemused kind of way, which was definitely better than angry. Jack nodded. He'd gone back once, after the debacle with the travelers from the _Sky Gypsy_. He hadn't told her anything, of course, he'd talked around what had really been bothering him. And she'd said the same thing as before: talk to Ianto.

"I'm sorry," Jack said. This wasn't supposed to happen, not like this. And not now, when they'd barely had a chance to work out everything else.

"About what? Talking to a middle-aged barmaid about your life? People have been doing it for centuries." He sighed. "You could have told me you'd seen her, though."

"There was never a good time," Jack replied. They were more than halfway to Bristol, but he pressed on the gas pedal, wanting to get there quicker as the conversation grew more awkward. Yes, they needed to talk, but how many times could they keep bringing up trust issues? It was ironic, because Jack _did_ trust Ianto, only their actions rarely seemed to line up with their hearts.

"You mean, we're rubbish at that sort of thing," Ianto replied, gone back to staring out the window.

"We're talking now," Jack offered.

"Because we're stuck in the car together."

"There are definitely better things we could be doing in the SUV," Jack replied, hoping a bit of levity might lighten the mood.

"Needs to be detailed first," Ianto murmured.

"Is that a promise?"

Ianto rolled his eyes and was quiet. Jack couldn't stand it and spoke after a few minutes.

"It'll be all right, you know," he offered, knowing it was lame. He wasn't sure if he was talking about them or about Mandy.

"When is it ever all right with this job?" Ianto asked wearily, then took a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm worried, I guess."

"She did try to send you through the Rift," Jack pointed out again, immediately regretting it because he knew what Ianto would say next.

"And I _did_ send you through the Rift," Ianto threw back, then whirled toward him, eyes wide like a switch had been flipped. "Oh my god, you _died_ that night, didn't you? You actually died on that planet and came back to life on your own, not because I tried to help. I _killed_ you, I didn't save you!"

He sounded so horrified, so sick with it, that Jack reached out to him, but Ianto backed away toward the door, staring at his hands. "Your blood," he murmured. "It's been on my hands since…" He groaned, his head falling back. "Since Lisa. Lisa killed you, didn't she? I read the report. You must have died that night too."

"I'm alive now," Jack tried to soothe, but Ianto was past that, shaking his head, breathing fast.

"Doesn't matter," Ianto said. "It's my fault. I did that to you. No wonder you don't trust me!"

"Ianto!" Jack said sharply. "It happened, it's over. I forgave you a long time ago." _Like you forgave me,_ he added in his mind.

"Pull over," Ianto gasped. "Stop, please stop."

Jack screeched to a halt on the M32, and Ianto jumped out of the car, vomiting into the gravel on the side. Jack let his head slump against the wheel; he didn't know what to do. Did he try to help Ianto, or did he stay out of it? What did it mean anyway, that Ianto was sick over the thought of being responsible for one of Jack's hundreds of deaths? He came back. He always would.

He heard Ianto retch again and threw open the door, unable to let him suffer alone. Dashing around the front of the SUV, he found Ianto leaning against the side of the car, head back, eyes closed, breathing deeply.

"You all right?" Jack asked quietly, for the second time that night.

"Apparently not," Ianto replied bitterly. "Guilt seems to do a number on my stomach."

"Or the pad Thai from lunch," Jack offered, earning an eye roll from Ianto.

"No, it's definitely the latter. I can't believe I didn't realize it until now. I actually killed you that night. All this time, I told myself I didn't really do what I promised the night I hit you, because I went back for you at the pub. But you died, and I had nothing to do with you coming back to life."

"Nice CPR technique though," Jack teased. It fell flat.

"Jack, I'm serious!" Ianto pushed himself off the car. "Why did you sleep with me that night?"

"What?" Jack asked. God, that night had really run the range, hadn't it? From Lisa Hallet to Beth Halloran, to Jack's immortality, trust, betrayal, and now sex. Jack was starting to feel overwhelmed. Why were things always so complicated for them?

"Why?" asked Ianto. "We weren't in that sort of place, not at the time. And particularly that night. I was pissed off about what you'd done to Tosh, that you showed at my pub, that you didn't let me handle the situation, _everything_. So why did you say yes?"

"Why did you ask?" Jack threw back, stalling for time. He wasn't sure how to answer, wasn't sure he _had_ an answer. Ianto was right, they'd been in a bad place in the weeks after Lisa's death, though Jack had tried hard to make it better. And he'd sensed Ianto's anger that night at the pub, though he'd never suspected it would lead to being cast through the Rift. That a series of disappearances in Radyr would finally allow Ianto to see Jack suffer and die, exactly as he'd promised.

It was twisted, in a way, that they'd fallen into bed that night, and again the next, and again after Suzie had died a second time. Maybe not for Jack, but he hadn't known many 21st century men and women who used sex like that. As a weapon, yes, and as a drug, definitely. But sex for him and Ianto had been two broken people connecting in an incredible way, a way that allowed them for a little while to set aside their broken lives and just _be._ Jack should have realized then that most people didn't make that kind of intense physical connection without some sort of emotion connection as well. Jack still wasn't sure what it was, what had drawn them together at such a difficult time, but it had been slowly and silently developing on its own, both before and after they'd shagged that night.

Ianto was taking his time answering. "I don't know," he finally replied. "It sort of…slipped out, I suppose. You said you would do anything to take the pain away. I thought that would be it."

"Sleeping with the enemy?" Jack asked. Ianto's head turned quickly and he winced.

"You weren't the enemy," he said, sounding confused. "You never were."

"Not then," Jack murmured, thinking about how he'd shot Lisa Hallet, how he'd left the team, how many times he had hurt Ianto.

"Not ever," Ianto replied firmly. "You gave me a job, a place to belong and make a difference, somewhere I could try to save Lisa. It wasn't your fault I failed. It wasn't your fault she killed those people and you had to stop her." Ianto took a breath and kept going, as if he needed to purge it all. "It wasn't your fault you had to sacrifice that little girl, or that a group of murderous cannibals tried to string me up for dinner, or that Tosh got her heart broken by an alien."

"That's really not what you said at the time," Jack said, surprised to hear Ianto's words. This time Ianto agreed.

"Oh, at the time, I blamed you for everything. All of it, even what happened at the pub. But as soon as I stepped outside I realized something…it wasn't your fault. It was the world. The world is broken, Jack, and it breaks _us_ when we let it. You did what you had to do. In some ways so did the fairies, and Mary, and even Mandy, And so did I, with Lisa. You didn't punish me for Lisa, when you could have executed me. You forgave me."

Jack was silent, waiting for Ianto to continue. "I was outside the pub and my mum called, and I realized she needed me, because the world was trying to break her too. Which was when I also realized someone out there needed Mandy, and that Torchwood needed you. To try and make things a little less broken."

"That makes almost no sense," Jack laughed quietly, hoping Ianto wasn't offended. Fortunately, he smiled.

"I know, it doesn't. Those moments usually don't, do they? But it made me to go back in and get you, didn't it? And I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could make things a little less broken for me."

Jack nudged him in the shoulder. "You wanted me."

Ianto huffed. "Yes, well, you made no secret of feeling likewise, what with the constant comments and looks and touches. _Harassment_ ," he added, the old spark returning to his eyes.

"So you were trying to see if I'd put out or shut up?" Jack was positively grinning now. Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe I was horny as hell after saving the world," he retorted.

"Been there, done that," Jack agreed. He took a deep breath. "I said yes because I wanted to say yes. I wanted you. You're right, I made no secret of being attracted to you."

"To my suits," Ianto interjected, and they laughed.

"You do look good in a suit," Jack agreed. "There was a connection, though, wasn't there? Before it all sort of fell apart?"

Ianto met his eyes, searching, and nodded. "Yeah, there was. I felt it too. I hated myself for it, though." He held up a hand when Jack started to protest. "Not because you're a man or even because you had quite a reputation in London, but because you were my boss, and I was lying to you while trying to save my girlfriend."

Jack took a leap of faith. "Did you ever think of asking for help?"

"Every damn day," Ianto whispered. "But I was too scared."

"You talked to Mandy," Jack said.

"That was after it was over, and that's what people do, talk to barmaids."

Jack reached for Ianto's hand, took it tight, and squeezed. "I'm sorry you didn't feel like you could trust me enough to tell me," he said softly, echoing Ianto's words from earlier and eliciting a look of surprise. "Maybe it's time to officially move on?"

Ianto nodded slowly. "Okay."

Jack kissed his hand. "Together?"

Ianto studied his face. "There's still a lot to think about."

"Didn't I say thinking was bad for your health?" Jack chided. Ianto nodded

"You did, so no more for tonight. We need to get to Bristol," he said, straightening up. "Do we have any water in the SUV? Or some gum?"

"Should be," said Jack. "You sure you're all right now?"

"I'll be fine," Ianto assured him. "But…don't die on me, all right? That's the one thing I don't think I could handle right now."

Jack kissed his cheek. "I'll try."

They climbed back into the car, Ianto somehow managing to find both water and gum. Jack drove as quickly as he could toward Bristol, but the rest of the ride was made in comfortable silent as they sat wrapped in their thoughts. In spite of the many ups and downs the conversation had taken over the course of the night, Jack thought they'd made some advances in the end, and he hoped that things would continue to improve between them. Then he remembered their last attempt at working it out, the night he'd returned, and how one violent moment had set them back and almost ruined everything.

He hoped whatever they found in Bristol wouldn't do the same. It was time to move on, to be together, and set aside the ghosts of the past once and for all.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Of this story, anyway. But there is a third story, and it will continue from this point as Jack and Ianto arrive in Bristol. What do they find there? How does it affect their future? Will they be able to move on and rebuild their trust and faith in one another? Or will the ghosts of the past haunt them forever?
> 
> How dramatic is that?
> 
> Thank you for reading this story, I really appreciate all the comments! Look for the final story in the coming weeks, although I will probably post some other stories first as I work toward the conclusion of this one. In the meantime, please read Taamar's wonderful work!


End file.
